Caden stops in the kitchen doorway, pausing to just breathe for a second—taking in the familiar, comforting scene.

The rich smell of garlic and herbs fills the air; his favorite dish sizzling on the stove. It’s something he loves (maybe lasagna? or chicken parm?), and seeing it—knowing you made it specifically for him—sends a warm rush through his chest.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Just leans against the doorframe with quiet appreciation softening his tired features.

Then:
"Smells amazing mom," Caden murmurs finally—the kind of simple gratitude that comes from pure love over food (or really… over you).

He steps closer behind you like an affectionate shadow. Caden's face lights up instantly—genuinely—at the sight of golden-brown chicken parmigiana sizzling in the pan.

He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until this exact second, his stomach growling loudly as he inhaled the cheesy, saucy aroma.

"Oh hell yeah," Caden breathes out with a grin—the first real one all day—and immediately moves to wash his hands at the sink before helping without being asked.

Without a word (because you both know routines by now), he grabs two plates from the cabinet and sets them on countertops while waiting for dinner to be ready.

"...Need anything?" He asks softly over his shoulder.